


Flowers #IneffableValentines2020 prompt 16

by GayDemonicDisaster (scrapheapchallenge)



Series: Ineffable Valentines 2020 [16]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: #ineffableValentines2020, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Caring Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley's Plants (Good Omens), M/M, Soft Crowley (Good Omens), Valentines, ineffable valentines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:53:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22501276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrapheapchallenge/pseuds/GayDemonicDisaster
Summary: After moving into the cottage, Crowley sets about tidying up the garden. He does it all by manual labour rather than miracles, to give himself something to do. One day he hits upon an idea that will take several months to come to fruition, and lays out a secret for his Angel. One spring day it's ready…
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Ineffable Valentines 2020 [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1618783
Comments: 42
Kudos: 108
Collections: Ineffable Valentines 2020





	Flowers #IneffableValentines2020 prompt 16

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Miele_Petite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miele_Petite/gifts).



Aziraphale tipped the removal lorry driver and waved him off happily, declining any further assistance moving the boxes. He was more than strong enough to manage them all on his own. He glanced over to Crowley who was busy moving some of his plants into the spacious greenhouse. Crowley looked up disapprovingly at the broken panes of glass and snapped his fingers to repair them. The cottage was everything they’d looked for, right down to a roomy cellar for their extensive wine collection, palatial garden and Victorian cast iron conservatory at the back. A sturdy wooden potting shed and enormous greenhouse filled Crowley’s head with possibilities he’d never been able to indulge in his flat.

Aziraphale joined him and slid a hand around the demon’s waist, pulling him close. “How is it, dearest?”

Crowley snorted. “There’s a lot of work to do here, Angel.”

Aziraphale nuzzled into his neck affectionately. “Well don’t go miracling everything into perfection straight away, we’ve got all of eternity together yet, love. Give yourself something to do to keep you occupied. I don’t want you climbing the walls with boredom in a week because there’s nothing to entertain you, this isn’t London you know, no nightlife out here, no exciting things to pop out to whenever you like. Just you, me and all of this.”

Crowley considered his words, nodding thoughtfully. “ _ You’re _ something to do to keep me occupied, Angel” he winked lecherously.

Aziraphale batted at him playfully. “Behave, I’m going to unload some of the boxes indoors, you get the plants settled in, dear. I’ll pop the kettle on too, coffee?”

Crowley kissed him briefly. “Yes please.”

Over the next few months, Crowley settled into a regular routine of working each afternoon in the garden, doing things the old fashioned way, which often involved copious amounts of swear words as he and various items from the tool shed had differences of opinion, with the occasional mashed thumb. Nonetheless, things gradually came together. He mowed and edged the lawn, pulled weeds from the path, repaired more of the greenhouse, painted the shed and fence, stripped the iron gate, wire brushed off the rust and repainted it a bright red, and set about the gargantuan task of organising the flower beds and vegetable plot.

The fruit trees needed a lot of pruning, they’d been neglected for years. One of the deciding factors in buying the cottage had been the mature apple, pear and plum trees in the orchard out the back by the riverside.

Planning the borders required a certain amount of homework, finding shrubs, bushes and flowers of varying heights to fit in between the fence and the lawn, and choosing a wide selection of annuals and perennials that would ensure a riot of colour erupting constantly throughout the year – some with flowers, others with changing colours of the leaves. Just as one plant died back, another would surge up to take the attention and draw the eye in its place.

Then one afternoon in the village, Crowley spied some daffodil bulbs on sale and had an idea.

He banished Aziraphale from the garden for the day, despatching him off to a book fair in town, forbidding him from coming back until nightfall, and set about with a trowel and compost. Aziraphale returned later that evening to find Crowley soaking exhausted in the bathtub, scrubbing at his hands with a nail brush to eradicate the ground-in dirt under his nails.

“Had a good day then, dearest?” Aziraphale enquired, sitting on the edge of the bath and trailing his fingers in the water, gently stroking his love’s chest.

“Mmm” Crowley hummed.

“Did you get your project done then?”

The demon nodded happily. “Yup.”

Aziraphale was curious. “Going to show me what it was then?”

Crowley shook his head. “Nope.”

He looked up, Aziraphale was pulling that sad puppy dog face at him. It wasn’t going to work this time. “Angel” he sighed, “Even if I wanted to show you, I can’t, it’s a secret until spring. You’ll see in April. Until then you’ll just have to be patient.” Patience wasn’t one of Aziraphale’s virtues, but he’d just have to deal with it this time.

* * *

There were unexpectedly harsh snow storms that March, and Crowley worried that it might impact on his plans, but breathed a sigh of relief when toward the end of the month, tell-tale green leaves began to sprout from the lawn. A mischievous grin spread across his face. He glanced toward his angel peacefully reading by the roaring fire, a cup of Earl Grey tea at his side, so cosy. He sighed and slunk over to snuggle up to him, wrapping himself up in Aziraphale’s warmth on the sofa. “Not long now, Angel” he smiled, and kissed him on the cheek, hugging him close.

“Not long until what, Crowley?”

Crowley smiled. He’d forgotten already. Heh. “Oh, nothing, I’ll tell you when it’s ready.” Aziraphale pulled a confused look, shook his head and turned the page.

Crowley didn’t want the full impact spoiling, so banned Aziraphale from going out into the garden from the moment he saw the buds starting to swell, for a few days. He closed the curtains on that side of the house and made Aziraphale promise he wouldn’t peek. He was an angel of his word, but now his curiosity was going wild. His demon was definitely up to something. He realised it was something to do with the day of furious gardening that had taken place a few months earlier, but didn’t know exactly what.

On the 11 th of April Crowley inspected the fruits of his labours. Perfect. His heart began hammering nervously in his chest. This was it. Oh boy. This was what he’d been waiting for. He glanced nervously at the potting shed, steeled himself and stalked over to it, unlocking the door and rummaging deep on the back shelf for what he’d hidden there.

“Angel!” Crowley’s voice from the back door startled Aziraphale out of his reverie over his book.

“Yes dear?” he called back.

“Come here, time for you to see!” Aziraphale leapt up in excitement. Finally he was to be allowed to know what was going on.

In the kitchen, the blinds still closed, Crowley kissed him then stepped behind and slipped his hands over Aziraphale’s eyes. “Step outside.” He instructed gently. Aziraphale could feel that Crowley’s hands were damp with nerves, and a little shaky. The emotion transferred through to him and he wondered what on earth was in store for him.

He stepped forward over the threshold onto the garden path outside the kitchen. Crowley nudged him forwards a step at a time, until he felt soft grass underneath his feet, then stopped, and withdrew his hands. “You can open your eyes now, Aziraphale” he whispered in his ear softly.

He allowed his eyes to adjust to the daylight and looked around, and then down.

On the lawn was a riot of bright yellow daffodils. It took a moment for him to work out what was strange about them.

They spelled something out.

Across the lawn, writ large in yellow blooms were the words “ON OUR OWN SIDE”.

Aziraphale gasped. He turned around “Crowley…” And came face to face with fresh air.

He looked down.

Crowley was on one knee in front of him. Aziraphale’s hands fluttered up to his mouth in astonishment.

“Marry me, Angel?”

He held out a box containing a beautiful gold ring in the shape of a simple coiled serpent with its tail in its mouth and tiny rubies for eyes. Aziraphale’s own eyes welled up with tears.

“Of course, Crowley.” He breathed, drowning in emotion. “Yes, of course yes my love.” He stammered, reaching out for him. Crowley stood and kissed him, his whole body shaking. He broke off and slid the ring onto Aziraphale’s finger, trembling, grinning nervously, and let out a laugh that was half sob, happy tears spilling down his face. Aziraphale stilled his nerves with another kiss then held him close. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Crowley snorted. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted to ask, Angel.” And held him tighter.


End file.
